Private Dancer
by spearsister
Summary: Snape reflects on his mistakes in this songfic


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or anything else, J.K. Rowling does. Tina Turner owns the song Private Dancer.  
  
Severus Snape sat in the smoky bar brooding; it had been three years since the Dark Lord was defeated. The Golden trio had moved on, Potter into a brilliant Quidditch career, playing for the British team, Weasley had fallowed his father's footsteps and was said to be the next Minister of Magic, And Hermione, she had moved to America to study with the worlds foremost Wizards. Last he had heard she was trying to find a cure for something or other. It was strange, in a way Severus had everything he wanted. The dark mark was no longer on his body; The Dark Lord had been defeated, and Potter was no longer underfoot. Yet somehow he always ended up in this smoky bar brooding, feeling incomplete, and drinking. Until She came on stage.  
  
/ All the men come in these places/ /And the men are all the same/  
  
The rich sultry voice of Muggle singer Tina Turner tells him she's on stage. He never goes to the edge of the stage nor does he pay for the lap dance she offers. No Severus just lingers at his table and watches her. She is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Long chestnut curls whirl around her lithe body. Great hazel eyes bore into him. He's never spoken to her; no he leaves his money in an envelope on his table for her. Somehow he can't bear to hand her sweaty coins like some lust driven boy. His feeling run deeper.  
  
/ You don't look at their faces/ /And you don't ask their names/  
  
He watches her graceful movements intently, desperate to find the root of his obsession with this dancer. Why does she make him forget how lonely he is, how drab his life has become. And he drinks, drinks to forget. To forget those things he's lost. To forget the last battle, to forget the pain and loss. But especially to forget her.  
  
/You don't think of them as human / /You don't think of them at all /  
  
Severus looks deep into those rich Hazel eyes and drowns in them. This beautiful girl, with her gleaming body chases away the memories of chestnut hair and hazel eyes.  
  
/You keep your mind on the money /  
  
/Keeping your eyes on the wall/  
  
He watches her sway her hips and lick her lips, He wants her and she knows it. Every man here wants her. She steps of the stage and makes her way closer to him. His eyes draw her closer, those pools of black heat; They promise her something, something different. She watched almost as intently as he her. Tonight's different though. She's tired of the hidden promise in his eyes. Tired of the noise and sweat and men.  
  
/ I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money /  
  
/I'll do what you want me to do /  
  
/I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money /  
  
/And any old music will do /  
  
Tonight She's going to find out what's in those eyes. Who he is doesn't matter as much as what he can give her. She needs to feel precious and clean. Somehow she knows that this dark cold man will give her what she needs.  
  
/I want to make a million dollars/  
  
/I wanna live out by the sea /  
  
Severus watched the girl undulate her way to his table. He almost stopped breathing when her soft hand brushed through his dark hair. When he felt her press something into his hand his heart leapt. Then she was gone, her written word blazed in his mind. "Meet me later"  
  
/Have a husband and some children/  
  
/Yeah, I guess I want a family/  
  
Later that night they sat together in his hotel room. And to both their surprise they had found much to talk about. She was so different. Snape had had visions of a mysterious dark woman and he found an outgoing creative girl full of life. She had a small child and Snape soon realized that this girl was not the seductress of his dreams. They spent the evening ordering room service and talking.  
  
/ All the men come in these places/  
  
/And the men are all the same/  
  
/You don't look at their faces/  
  
/And you don't ask their names/  
  
Severus found himself talking to her, a rare thing indeed. Even more rare he found himself talking about Hermione. About that night two years ago. The night he fell in love with a dark haired Gryffindor.  
  
/I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money/  
  
/I'll do what you want me to do/  
  
/I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money/  
  
/And any old music will do/  
  
He remembered it so clearly. The pain on Lupen's face when he told them that Potter was lost, presumed dead, The way her lovely face paled when she fainted. By the time she awoke Weasly had stormed out determined to find Potter. Hermione had been left in his care when Dumbledore and the others went after Ron. She was so angry when he stopped her from leaving his tent. Cold she had called him, selfish, disgusting. Finally she cried, cried like her life was over. That's when he took her in his arms. After she had cried herself out she turned to him, with lust on her mind. It's said that intense pain leads people to do strange things. They made love that night and he had fallen in love. The morning light had brought Potter alive, and whole, and he was lost in the shuffle. Hermione has hurt him that morning by running to Harry, childish yes, but true. Severus had retaliated by being cold and sarcastic. He lost her.  
  
/ Deutch marks or dollars /  
  
/American Express will do nicely, thank you /  
  
/Let me loosen up your collar/  
  
/Tell me, do you wanna see me do the shimmy again? /  
  
Severus never told her he loved her and had never said goodbye. He knew now that this lovely dancer was only a shadow of Hermione. So he said goodbye. Knowing that he would never sit in that smoky bar gazing into hazel eyes again. After hours of internal struggling Severus Snape picked up a muggle telephone and called Her. He needed to say I love you. 


End file.
